When Isabel Morton’s desire to sing leads her from a prospective governess post to a disreputable and dangerous establishment in London, she’s rescued by dashing William Balfour. But when her savior is accused of being a party to her misfortune, it’s Isabel’s turn to save William...by becoming his bride!

Brought together by fate and now bound by a vow, it’s time for these two strangers to explore the unexpected passion of their new marriage—and find a way to live happily ever after as husband and wife!

Dedicated with gratitude to Laura McCallen who

helped me find the story I wanted to tell.

Chapter One

Isabel watched from the window as the older couple’s driver stepped on to his carriage perch and called to the horses. She’d not believed her luck when she’d spotted the man and woman waiting for their carriage to be readied. It had taken her all of a minute to find out their destination and pour out her sad tale.

She didn’t want to think of what might happen when the other coach arrived in Sussex without her. But the family could find another governess. This was her one chance. Her chance to soar.

Isabel turned to the man whose eyelids almost concealed his vision and the woman who matched him in age, but her eyes danced with life. Isabel clasped her hands at her chest and promised herself she would never again lie, except in extreme circumstances such as this. Taking a deep breath, she let the words rise from deep within herself. ‘You have saved my life.’

A barmaid, hair frazzled from the August heat, stood behind the couple. She looked up long enough to roll her eyes heavenward.

‘Miss...’ the wife patted Isabel’s glove ‘...we just could not bear that your evil uncle was selling you into marriage to a man old enough to be your father—and your betrothed a murderer as well.’

‘Thank you so much.’ She sighed. ‘If my parents were alive today...’ they were, but they’d understand and forgive her once they discovered how famous she’d be ‘...they would fall upon their knees in gratitude for your saving my life.’

The barmaid snorted and Isabel sighed with emphasis, knowing she mustn’t let the couple notice the scepticism.

‘You’re sure if you go to London with us, your family will give you a home?’ the wife questioned.

‘Oh. Yes.’ The word lengthened to twice its usual length. ‘Aunt Anna, my mother’s sister, who has no idea of the tragedy that has befallen me as my great-uncle would not allow me paper or ink, would give me refuge in a heartbeat. I have always been her favourite niece, of course. It is just that my uncle told her I was...tragically killed in a fall from a horse, trampled by hooves and had to be immediately buried because the sight was too exceptionally hideous for anyone to see as I would not have wanted to be remembered as such.’

The woman’s eyes could not have been more kind. ‘Tragic.’

‘Yes. Frightfully so.’

The man arched one brow, enough that Isabel could see the scepticism. ‘We will certainly deliver you to your aunt in London,’ he said. ‘To her doorstep.’

‘I will be

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